


Release

by FakeAndGay



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gabriel was his best friend/partner/boyfriend/lover, Ghost boy being gay, Grief/Mourning, Implied Sexual Content, Jack is a war vet, Jack is in denial, Jack tries to cope, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reyes is fucking dead, and fails, gabe is trying to deal, help them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2018-11-07 18:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11065083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakeAndGay/pseuds/FakeAndGay
Summary: Jack Morrison hated funerals, but what he hated even more than funerals was attending his partners funeral. To make matters worse, he keeps getting romantic (if not creepy) gifts.Previously named "Romance is not dead (yet)"Now includes plot!





	1. The Haunted Apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack leaves a funeral leaving worst than he arrived.  
> He tries to cope (and fails).
> 
> Edited on January 8th, 2018

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A weird AU that came up in a conversation, and I couldn't get it out of my head. It'll start a bit slowly, but hopefully it'll come out fine. Enjoy!

_A few years prior_

The funeral was on a Tuesday.

The sun was deceptively bright, and a slight breeze wafted through the trees. Clouds were sparse and, Jack Morrison didn't feel any of it. He couldn't hear the birds chirping, or the suns warm rays that casted on his hair, or how they made it seem glowing and ethereal. Regardless, he knew it was a stark contrast to his sullen, pale skin, and his dull blue eyes that kept to the ground. He didn't have any motivation, and it brought him a sick satisfaction to know that everyone could see him like this. That everyong could see he looked how he felt; exhausted, drained- you name it. He kept a steady pace as he walked briskly to a chair in the front row, and continued to look anywhere but the closed casket in front of him, or the framed picture of the man in it.

He let out a deep sigh as he settled and drew his gaze to the other attendees. Their clothing was varied, but it was, of course, all black. There were people smiling and laughing, and it made his blood boil. He thought to himself, _'Why were they here? Did no one truly care about him?'_ Nonetheless, he couldn't recognize anyone. Maybe... maybe he hadn't known the man he was visiting as well as he thought. Sure, he knew there was a whole life that he didnt know about, but there wasn't much time to explore it. It's not his fault. Yet, the malicious thoughts came. He tried to keep the worst thoughts at bay. The ones that whispered at the back of his mind. The ones that hurt the most. The ones that said, _'He didn't really love you,' and, 'You were not important to him.'_ Jack really didn't want to keep thinking about this.

As if on cue, the pastor finally arrived and made his way to the front of the field. The mass quieted at his arrival, and soon, everyine was settled into their seats, waiting for it to begin. Jack glanced at his face, and could tell that his sorrowful expresion was insincere. Jack seethed in anger, but he did nothing but look away, and, finally observe the casket before him. It was a simple, dark, polished wood. He didn't know what kind, only that it smelled nice and that it reminded him of Gabriel, in a way. It was, afterall, Gabriel's funeral he was attending today.

> _The transport was parked and rumbling_ _ahead. The sun was glaring, the air was dry, and Gabriel Reyes was donning civilian attire with his usual scowl etched across his dark, scarred face, as Jack told him not to go._
> 
> _"Mi sol, nada pasará. Everything will be okay." Gabriel said in a kind tone, his expression melting to one of compassion as he dropped his luggage and pulled Jack close._
> 
> _"You don't know that," Jack let out raggedly as he pushed his head into Gabriels shoulder and exhaled. "I know something's gonna happen. It's too fishy, too good to be true."_
> 
> _"Relax, it's just a promotion. I'll see you soon, alright?" Gabriel said as he pulled away, kissing Jack on the forehead once, and turning towards the carrier._
> 
> _"Just be careful, please?" Jack yelled almost desperately as Gabriel walked towards the transport. He only received a wave in return. Gabriel didn't look back, didn't see Jack shed tears, or Jack running toward the transport and watching Gabriel for the last time, knowing deep inside that he'd never see him alive again._

He was interrupted from his introspection when the pastor cleared his throat, and the attendees slowly quieted once again. He didn't notice his tears until they tickled his nose as they slid down his face. He promptly wiped them away aggressively with the sleeve of his coat as the pastor began.

"Brothers and sisters," he commenced. He then took a brief pause and continued. "We are gathered here today to mourn the death of our fallen brother, Gabriel Reyes. May he rest in peace with our Holy Father in heaven."

At this point, Jack decided it was safe to drown out the rest. Funerals were terrible and boring to him. They only served to make him more miserable. Today's funeral was no exception. Even with the lively birds, the warm sun, and the fake tears he was surrounded with, it was the same to him. He could only focus on the dark, inconspicuous casket where his partner remained. His head was now blessedly silent, but his heart was heavy, and his eyes stung with tears unshed. He wanted to leave. He couldn't take the false niceties and the pitiful glances anymore.

 _'Stay and endure,'_ he thought. _'Do it for Gabriel.'_

He stared and stared at the place where his companion is laying, stiff and cold and dead and _not_ here with him.Oh how he wished Gabriel was alive, sitting next to him in that empty chair next to him, whispering insulting jokes in Jack's ear and trying to get him to laugh out loud in the middle of the procession. To say that Jack missed him was a sore understatement.

Caught up in his thoughts, he almost missed when the pastor left the podium, but he payed attention as a scarce few brave souls went up to say something about Gabriel Reyes. They mentioned his terrible wit, the elusive beanie that never left his head, his harsh face, and the glares that could scare any man to his bones. He had half a mind to stand up as well, give a little speach about what a great friend he was, but in the end, he couldn't bring himelf to do it. Instead, he sat patiently, waiting until everyone said their goodbyes and left, and the workers were coming to put his casket into the ground. Then, he stood up and leaned agaisnt the cold, polished surface, exhaled deeply, and said the final goodbyes he wished he could have said before.

"Gabriel," he started, almost silently. "I told you so. I wish I could see your face now, knowing I was right. I wish I could tell you how much of a dick you are for leaving my sorry ass alone. Mostly though, I'd kill to have you next to me. See you soon, Gabriel. I'll miss you, _mi amor_." He staightned himself as the workers closed in, and he walked away, not looking back either.

* * *

The car ride "home" was uneventful. Jack had gotten into the front seat, put on his seatbelt, adjusted the rearview mirror, and backed out of the cramped funeral parking lot. Who knew there would be so many people mourning Gabriel's loss? As he drove to his new, small, apartment, he only thought of how much he wanted to get there and sleep his misery away. He drove there automatically, didn't even think about the turns he had to make, or the fastest path. There was no traffic at this time of day, and he got there rather quickly. When he arrived, he got inside the tiny space and threw off his suit, undid his tie, and collapsed onto his messy, undone bed.

He still had his shoes on, but couldn't bring himself to care as he buried his face into the mattress and tried to rest. Minutes went by, and still no progress. It seemed today would be like any other day. He checked the clock and it read in bold, bright, red letters **5:57 PM**. Why did he even try this early?

He decided it would be best if he made himself something to eat, as he made his way into the kitchen. He looked in the fridge and was not surprised to see it empty except for a bottle of water and a few packets of ketchup. He took the water bottle and sat on the couch, staring at the plaster wall.  He was tired, but he could not sleep. He couldn't even bring himself to get up and _do something_. He felt helpless and stupid. Why was he like this? Why would he torture himself so much? Was he not capable of anything anymore? _'No,'_ he thought determinedly. _'I have to do something!'_ He got up and looked around. There was trash and dirty laundry on the floor, dirty dishes in the sink, and it smelled like something died. His room fared no better, and the bathroom was untouched. He had to start somewhere, and any progress was good progress. He walked hesitantly to the kitchen, and got started with the dishes, humming a tune in the progress. He lathered and rinsed, and scrubbed off the week old food. He then dried them and put them away. He was proud that he managed to do it all the way, so he checked the clock as he sat down on the couch again. It said 6:42 PM. Now was a good a time as any to try and sleep, again. He walked to his room and laid down, sighing into the mattress. "Close your eyes, count to ten. Come on, Morrison. Sleep it off." He sat up against the headboard and stared at the bedroom wall. Soon, though, his eyes couldn't stay open. He then laid back down, resting his head on the pillow. Unknowingly, sleep took him.

_Present day (4 years later)_

 

When Jack awoke this morning, it was like any other. The window was already letting in early morning sun through the curtains, and, weirdly, he felt better than he had in a year. He didn't know how he achieved such deep, restful sleep, or what was different this time, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He sat up and stretched, his joints popping. Jack slumped back and for once, he had a lazy smile on his face. 'Today,' he thought, 'I'll go grocery shopping and make myself a good lunch.' He straightened his clothes and went into the bathroom to take a shower and brush his teeth. When he came out some minutes later, freshly dressed and clean, he felt like a new man, and his mood had increased vastly. He had walked into the kitchen to finish the water bottle he had left halfway, when he noticed a red mess on his counter. Upon further inspection, it was not a complete mess, but a sentence, written in ketchup. When he checked the trash can, he saw the empty ketchup packets, and when he checked the fridge, it was completely empty.

He tried to keep a clear mind as he read the message. It said "I miss you too, _mi sol._ " He stiffened on the spot. His mood quickly went sour. No one called him that except Gabriel, and he was dead. What kind of sick joke was this? He had just moved in a week ago, no one should know his address. When he checked the door, it was still locked like he left it last night. There was no way anyone could do this. He didn't know his neighbors either. Could it have been..? No, he's dead and there's no changing that. Jack Morrison was a rational man, he didn't believe in ghosts, he wasn't stupid enough to believe his lover came back from the dead as a ghost to come and leave him a message in _ketchup_ on the counter. He snorted at that thought. "How romantic." he said, out loud. He turned away and got a cloth to clean the ketchup. Jack wiped it away and got his keys and wallet; he still had to grocery shopping. As he left his house, Jack couldn't help but think how absurd this situation was. Every "logical" cause was still illogical. He drowned out his thoughts as he got in the car and cranked up the radio high, humming to a rock song he had never heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might add more chapters to this, so stay tuned!  
> Translations:  
> Mi sol, nada pasará = My sun, nothing will happen  
> mi amor = My love  
> My main languages are English and Spanish, but if you see any errors that I didn't, feel free to say so!


	2. The Cursed Casserole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack goes grocery shopping. 
> 
> Feels (?) ensue.
> 
> (Edited on January 9th, 2018)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make me happy!  
> This chapter portrays suicidal thoughts, but nothing too serious.

The grocery store was unusually empty for the time of day, it being a Thursday morning. As he got a shopping cart, he noticed empty lines and isles, a scarce few people milling around. He went isle to isle, methodically gathering the items he needed off his mental checklist. He noticed the bright packages, and the signs that promised a 'great deal.' He scrutinized the labels, occasionally picking things up and putting them back. He debated buying cake mix, but decided against it, since he didn't want to waste gas. It's not like he could afford much with the check he got.  
Maybe he should get a job? He shook that thought from his head. He didn't want to think about that now. He put down the cake box, and went to the produce section. It was always good to invest in good food because it will last a while. He looked around, looking for carrots. Once he got them, he filled his cart with everything else on his checklist and got out his coupons as he went into a check out line.  
This was the most mundane part. Waiting. He wished he was back in the field, doing something. Instead he was honorably discharged and taken away from the few things that made life worth living. He felt washed up and old.

Jack snapped out of his thoughts as the cashier looked at him spitefully. "Did you find everything you need?" she asked, faking a cheerful smile.

  
He only nodded in response as he paid for his groceries and left. The walk back to his car was just as uneventful as shopping, and he quickly put everything away in the back and drove back to his apartment.

It was just was he left it when he walked in, arms laden with grocery bags. Jack dropped everything on the floor and began putting everything away, as some items were sensitive to temperature. Once he was done, he collapsed onto his old, uncomfortable couch and heaved a great sigh. He was so tired, he didn't even notice that he fell asleep.

When Jack awoke, he felt just as tired as he was when he went to sleep. He sighed again and got up. He didn't know why. There was nothing to do, no where to go, no one to talk to. He was lonelier than he had ever been before, and he reveled in it. He had no desire to socialize, or be someone. He only wanted to sleep and die.

Still, he walked into his kitchen and looked into the fridge, seeing if he could make himself something to eat, at least. When he opened it, he was startled to see a casserole already in the fridge. He hadn't cooked anything, and he didn't even know how to make a casserole. The only person he knew that made one, and a fucking good one at that, was Gabriel. He felt himself go cold, and it was not because of the open refrigerator in front of him. Why...? Either way, who ever had miraculously made and left a casserole probably didn't mean any harm, and for once he was feeling hungry.  
"Might as well eat it," he grumbled to himself.  He took out the cold glass dish and placed it on the counter, getting out a plate and some utensils from his cupboards. He served himself some, and put the dish back into the fridge. Jack brought his plate with him as he sat down onto the couch and took a bite. He coughed and sputtered. 'This tastes exactly like Gabriel's.' He couldn't be imagining things. Is Gabriel...? Jack got up suddenly and yelled to no one,"Whoever is doing this needs to stop!"  
The plate was on the coffee table, forgotten. He was not hungry anymore. Maybe if he slept again, the casserole and his memories will be gone.

His sleep was fitful and tiring. He felt terrible. His eyes felt like they had grown bags on his bags, and he felt stiff and sore all over, as if a car had run over him a good three times. He didn't remember what he dreamt of, but he was left with the feeling that it was as dissatisfying as waking up. He had no desire of getting up or doing anything. In fact, he was going to do just that. Lie in bed all day. He felt around with his hand for the sheets that he had kicked off during the night, and once his hand grazed the thin, scratchy fabric, he pulled on them to bring them to the bed. They did not budge. He groaned out loud, and debated whether or not it was really worth getting the sheets. A light breeze entered the room in that moment, and he got up suddenly to get the sheets. When he looked at them on the floor, they were held down by a rock. An honest-to-god rock. How did a rock appear in his bedroom? Had he gone sleepwalking? He pushed the rock off and grasped the sheets in his hand, angrily wrapping himself up and pushing his head on the pillow. He was already awake though, and soon he began fussing relentlessly. "C'mon!" He yelled as he threw the sheets off. He got up and stomped towards the living room and slammed himself on the couch, which protested at this. Soon, though, he relaxed a bit, and slumped into the couch. 'What will I do all day?' he thought miserably. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, when he heard a deep laugh. "Who's there?" Jack said, as he was suddenly alert. He got up and checked his surroundings. No one was there, the apartment was just as empty as always. 'I must be going crazy,' he thought as he got up and decided to clean this mess of a living room. 

 

* * *

Cans, bottles, wrappers and dust were removed from the living room as he sat on his recently cleaned couch. It wasn't spotless, but it was much, _much_ better than before. He almost felt... happy. At least he felt accomplished, and rightfully tired. He would try and sleep, but it was only 6 PM. He knew it wouldn't work. What if he ate something? He was a bit hungry.

He pried his body off of the couch, and slowly made his way to the refrigerator, where he peered in to decide what to eat. He immediately noticed the casserole dish, which he was secretly hoping was a dream. "Fuck it," he said aloud, and he brought it out along with a fork, planning to eat it straight from said dish. The couch accepted him, and he sank in as he dug his fork into the casserole and took a bite. No time to dwell on the implications of the magically conjured thing. It tasted really good, enough to cry over.

The was a loud noise, like a rock being banged against a wall, that startled him enough to drop the glass plate onto the floor. It shattered, and glass shards and food scattered everywhere. He groaned out loud, this would take hell to clean. He could hear the same deep laughter behind him, clear as day. He turned around and saw a shadow of some sort, standing there. It looked too solid to be a shadow, and it was.. wispy. It looked to be in the shape of a man. As soon as he realized what exactly he was seeing, the apparition disappeared with a trail of pitch black smoke, leading into his room. He sat there, dazed, until he snapped out of it and followed the trail into his room. The apparition was there, waiting.

"What do you want?" Jack questioned loudly. 

It stood and did not answer. Didn't even shift. 

"What are you?" He said, a little louder. 

The ghostly image stayed. 

'Maybe it couldn't communicate? But it has laughed before..' Jack thought. 

"Leave please" Jack said firmly. He wasn't going to deal with whatever this _thing_ was. Frustratingly, the ghost did not waver. Instead, it sat down on Jacks bed, and beckoned with one hand. Jack sat down next to it before even processing what he was doing. For some reason, Jack was certain he would come to no harm. The creature patted it's lap, and Jack put his head on it, not expecting the solid warmth. It was sweet and familiar, like scratching an itch almost. Jack felt like he was regaining a piece of him he didnt know he had missing. He settled in and was asleep before long, nuzzled into the lap of some ghost in his apartment. 

He dreamt of a smile brighter than the sun, and laughter that sung to his soul. He saw corn fields and picnic blankets, warm brown eyes and family casserole, split for two. 

He woke up to a bright, mellow, morning sun shining on his face, wrapped in a blanket. He still felt warm and happy from his dream; it felt more like a memory than anything else. Hopefully, whatever is yet to come will not take away this feeling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aiming for most chapters to be around 1,500 words. Tell me if there are mistakes!  
> If you question Jack's almost immediate accepting-ness of Ghost Man, well, Jack has had some rough days and he needs some love.


	3. Time to Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A discussion is had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your comments and sorry for the delay!
> 
> Edited on January 10, 2018

The sun filtered through the curtains, and strangely, he wasn't bothered by it. The gentle warmth felt like his dream, although he didn't know why or how. Jack felt so at ease and it reminded him of better times. For once, it didn't hurt so much. Sure, it was bittersweet, but he couldn't keep locking away these good memories. Gabriel wouldn't have wanted that. So he let himself remember.  
  
" _Mi sol, I've missed you." A warm embrace later, he was greeted with Gabriel, who currently had a basket in hand. "I missed you too, Gabi" Jack replied, and chuckled as Gabriel faked an indignified expression. "Do you really have to call me that? Can't you just call me your boyfriend? Hell, I'd even take Snugglekins over that." Gabriel walked through the short grass of the field, walking towards a large, old tree with plenty of shade. Jack laughed outright at that. "If you insist, Snugglekins," he said as he looked where they were walking to. "I change my mind, don't call me that. I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me Gabi though. It's embarassing!"  He looked at Jack then, and saw him pouting at him. "But Gabiiiiiiiiii..." he whined. "Jack, I'm warning you." Gabriel said in an almost serious tone. Jack looked back at him defiantly, and said, "Oh, yeah? What are you going to do about it, **Gabi**?" Gabriel said nothing as he put down the items he was holding, and set up everything under the shade of the ancient tree. "Gabe?" Jack said, a bit worried. Gabriel still did not answer as he finished arranging everything on the picnic blanket, from food to candles and even a bottle of wine. He then looked up at Jack, who was still standing up looking at Gabriel. "You asked what I was going to do about it, right?" Gabriel said, as he looked away, gazing at the field in front of him. "Yeah, Gabe, you're really worrying me here!" Jack wrung his hands and fidgetted. "Well, I was going to do... this!" He said as he pounced on Jack, knocking him down onto the blanket as he skirted his hands over Jack's ticklish sides. Jack gasped and laughed between breaths. "Gabe...! Ga-briel! Gabe.. Stop it! Stop.... it!" He wheezed as he tried to laugh, breathe, struggle and plead at the same time. Gabriel has a large grin on his face, obviously not having a hard time holding Jack down. Eventually, though, he relented. "Alright," he said as he took a deep breath. "I think you've had enough." He looked down and saw the flushed, happy, out of breath face of his boyfriend. How he loved his beautiful smile. It made his heart melt, and he just wanted to look at him forever if he could. Gabriel had it bad, so bad. Jack was his everything. He just knew that he was the one. No one would ever see him like this, no one would make him as happy as Jack does. "I love you," Gabriel blurted out. Jack just smiled even more, if that were possible. So wide and bright and beautiful. He was his sun. Jack just said, "I love you too, you idiot. Now get off me. I'm hungry."_  
  
Jack felt as if in a daze as he got out of bed, remembering the days were he would do absolutely nothing but lay with Gabriel and talk, or not talk at all. His heart hurt, but it felt good to finally let out what he had been feeling. He looked around the room and felt inexplicably dissapointed when he did not see the ghostly figure anywhere. "Better start the day, then," Jack said to no one. He walked into the kitchen and looked around the fridge, slowly thinking about what he would make himself. When he got out a carton of eggs, he almost dropped them when he turned around and saw the pitch black silhouette that had visited him last night. He straightened himself quickly though, and got to work. He cracked open eggs and whisked them as the shadow- _thing_ watched him, and even turned on the stove. "So," Jack started without turning away from the lit stove, "Can you talk?" He glanced at the being(?) and saw it shake it's head. "Well, I've seen you leave things for me. That was you, right?" He glanced again and saw it nodding. "That means that you can manipulate things, and that you can write. Would you mind writing things for me later?" He called over his shoulder. The ghost, yes, it's probably a ghost, nodded once again. "Come sit with me." Jack said to the ghost as he sat down with his breakfast on the couch, with the ghost next to him. He ate silently as the ghost stared at a wall, and sometimes at Jack. He could not disconcern any facial features except two white orbs that were probably eyes. It was like a black smoke cloud, with a human shape and glowing eyes. If it has laughed before, why couldn't it talk? Maybe it didn't rember how to talk, or it didn't feel like talking? Determined, Jack hastily finished his breakfast and cleaned up after himself. He then scavenged around his house until he found a pen and paper. He went to the spirit, who was still seated on the couch, and handed the items to it. "Here, do you know how?" Before Jack could react, the dark entity snatched the pen and paper, and rearranged itself on the floor, where it could write properly. It then looked straight at Jack. "Oh!" He said. "Let's start with something simple. Why are you here?" The ghost did not move an inch. "Maybe that's too personal?" Jack thought to himself. "Who are you then?" He said at last. It did not respond, except for a tremor, and suddenly it snapped the pen in half, spilling ink everywhere and disappearing. Jack got up suddenly to save his clothes from stains. "Why'd you do that?" Jack called out to the empty room. Where ever it had went, it was not here now. And it didn't like questions. 

* * *

 Jack headed into his room after cleaning up the mess the ghost has left. When he walked in, he found it to be sitting on his bed, apparently sulking. Jack's heart cleanched. It looked like a kicked puppy. "Come dude, I'm not upset. I shouldn't have pushed you so much," Jack said as he sat down next to it, handing it a new piece of paper and pen. "Wanna try again? You can start by saying hi." The apparition hesitantly took the pen in its hand, and then the paper. It slowly wrote, "It's been a while." Jack was surprised. The handwriting was familiar, but he couldn't figure out for where, exactly. "Did you know me?" he asked, suddenly excited and scared at the same time. Hope filled his chest like air and he was having trouble not yelling for answers. A much shakier "yes," accompanied the words, so it was easy to guess that the ghost couldn't handle talking about it's past much. "Do you remember anything at all?" Jack said slowly. He didn't want to lose his chance, not when it was staring at him in the face. "Your hair." The paper read when he looked at it. This... could mean everything or nothing.

He was starting to put everything together. Maybe this was Gabriel's ghost? He didn't know how to feel about that. Jack hadn't exactly come to terms with Gabriel's death. What had cause Gabriel to stay here? Why hadn't he moved on? The reports said he was killed in action, but no other details were provided. He couldn't even see the body. Maybe his death was wrongful. Maybe... maybe it could've been avoided, and he wouldn't be sitting here with what may or may not be Gabriel's ghost. He didn't want to think about the circumstances that caused him to stay here.

"Can you tell me why you wrote those things on the counter, and made me that casserole?" Jack had to get closer to his answer, he had to know. The pen shook violently, but it did not snap as the ghost wrote, "I don't know." It threw the pen and let out an inhuman growl as it stalked away, too fast for Jack to see where it went. He decided that it was enough for today. Jack didn't want it to get even more overloaded. 

A sudden idea came into his mind, and he stood up abruptly and dashed out of his room, grabbing his keys and heading out the door of his flat. He ran to his car, now excited and anxious. Jack got inside and turned it on, quickly driving out of the parking lot and to the nearest office store. Hopefully, this will make the ghost feel better. 

When he left the store, he had a bag in his hand, full of sticky notes and cheap pens. This would allow his ghostly friend to be able to communicate with him better, whenever he wanted. He was glad, for once, that he didn't have any friends. If anyone were to walk into his apartment after he was done, they would think him insane. They wouldn't be far off. When he got home, Jack went straight to work. He placed sticky note pads eveywhere, with a pen to acompany each taped to the wall. He soon realized this was entirely unnecessary, but he hoped it would still cheer up the apparition to appear again. 

Whether it worked or not, it was still getting late and he needed some rest. He was willing to try, at least. When he went to his room, he was dissapointed to find it empty. What did he expect? He had ventured around the small apartment at least four times while "redecorating," and he didnt see hide nor hair of his new roommate. He walked to the bed and jumped onto it, throwing the covers on and not even bothering to change clothes. Sleep took him quickly, and his dreams were empty, but peaceful. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Hello, Hello. Here I am. Glad to have you here. Hope you enjoyed. Stay tuned!


	4. Notes on a Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress is made.
> 
> Edited on January 15, 2018

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops.

When Jack woke in the morning, he felt uncomfortable. He did not know why, but he wanted to open his eyes. He didn't _have_ to wake, though. What for? He had nothing to do, no one to talk to. He could sleep all day and no one would care. His presence wasn't needed in this world. He could fade away, and no one would bat an eye. Even with all these thoughts, he wasn't convinced. Something nagged at the receses of his mind. Something that wouldnt quite let him belive all those thoughts swirling in his head. It was like a shadow of a thought, like something you had forgotten. But it persisted. He focused on that almost foreign feeling. This warm, familiar feeling that has been slowly feeling a hole in his mind he didn't know he had. And then, he rose.

He grumbled and sat up, his body protesting as he threw the sheets off and wiped his face. When he touched his face, though, he encountered something on it. He took it off and found that it was a sticky note, and that it was the thing that was causing him discomfort. Jack inspected the note and found nothing but a poorly drawn smiley face on it. 

Jack could not be mad at this. It might have been an attempt at humor, or communication. None of which were unwelcome. This was his reason now. There was a lost soul that needed his help. He couldn't help it if he was dead. With this in mind and the note in hand, he got off the bed and walked into the living room, pleasantly surprised at the more distinguished black figure. It's details were much more pronounced. Jack could tell that it had the shape of a male, a very familiar one. The ghosts hair was close cropped, and it's face was sharp. Jack knew; deep down he knew.  His heart cleanched at the familiar figure, but he couldn't get his hopes up. Not yet. He can't.. he can't let himself fall. Not again.

Jack cleared his throat.

"So, uh, are you feeling better?"

The figure (maybe he should call it 'him', at least. No, not yet) nodded, and gestured vaguely to the living room. Jack saw that all of the sticky notes had been covered with script, whether it be small drawings, sentences, and if his eyes weren't deceiving him, a recipe. Jack grinned at this. "Dude, you actually did all of this? I'm so proud! This is great progress!" He felt excited, happy even. Jack felt radiant, like helping someone had actually helped him instead. The feeling of warmth and pleasure coursed through him as he looked at his possible friend and beemed proudly. Suddenly, Jack was overcome with a thought. What if...? His brain did not have time to catch up as he ran forward and hugged the ghost. He was then surprised (even though he had touched it before. What did he expect? Thin air?) when he did not fase through, but bumped into a solid mass. It felt like a breeze, and yet it was there. "Wow," Jack breathed out. He let the sensation wash over him, and then, Jack pulled back and grinned at the apparition in front of him, which hadn't move at all. It was stiff and possibly shocked, but Jack couldn't really tell. He decided that was probably too much for today and patted it on the shoulders as he got up and headed to the kitchen, as he just remembered that he hadn't eaten breakfast yet. 

"So," Jack called from a room away. The apparition made a noise of acknowledgement. Jack hummed in response, then paused and thought. "Hey!" He yelled, surprised. "You couldn't do that before, right?" Ghost-man made the same noise in return.

"It looks like you really are making progress. Soon enough, you might be able to talk." He began to ramble. "I have noticed that your silhouette has become more defined. Maybe it just takes time to get a hang of the whole ghost thing? Anyway, I have to go out today. I've decided I need to get a job. I'll be leaving in an hour." Jack didn't know why he told it this, but he guessed it was out of courtesy. It _was_ technically his roomate, after all. 

Jack leaves the apartment without waiting for an answer. 

He wasn't really going to get a job, but his "roommate" didn't need to know that. In fact, Jack wanted to keep this a surprise until the very end. First, he was going to reluctantly visit some old friends. He needed to gather some information, and maybe they still tolerated him enough to help. He had a lot of work ahead of him.

* * *

 

Jack wasn't at all aware that his ghostly roomate would actually do something while he was gone, but when he returned home a few hours later, he found it smelling of a home-cooked meal. He immediately walked into the kitchen and found the almost/not quite solid figure cooking something on the stove. The kitchen itself had remained clean, and it seemed that his roommate didn't even notice him walk in. He closed the door and leaned against the frame. 

"What cookin' pal?" 

The ghost seemed surprised and turned to face him, before beckoning him over with a fork and pointing to the pan in his hand. 

"I keep forgetting you can cook. Can you do that every day now?"

The figure in question snorted and shrugged. It pointed to the fridge, and Jack went over to see what it was talking about. When Jack opened the fridge, it contained only basic food meant to keep him alive, and nothing else. What a sad sight. Just with the cursory glance, he knew what the ghost meant. Jack needed to get better food in order to get home cooked meals. It might be more than his check can handle, though. Maybe he  _should_ get a job. It sounded nice. Something to do during the day, and someone to come home to during the night. His heart clenched at that thought. Jack knew this wasn't going to last. Why would he torture himself over some nameless entity that decided to inhabit his apartment? Still, it felt wrong to think of his 'roommate' like that. Almost traitorous, hurtful even. He knew what he wanted to hear, knew what it meant.

Jack was blessedly interrupted by a noise akin to someone clearing their throat, and he saw the ghost was placing served plates on the shaby living room table. Jack then noticed he had been standing still in the middle of the kitchen for a few good minutes. 'Awkward,' he thought to himself as he sheepishly walked over to the empty space next to his friend and grabbed a fork. It looked delicious. Hopefully, it would taste just as good as what he expected it to be, and maybe it would confirm the thoughts that threatened to tear his head apart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cut off half of the chapter cause I felt it developed too much? Whatever, y'all will see. The plot thickens!!


	5. The Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack talks and remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly dialogue, not very action-y. Had a hard time writing this because of that, obviously. But we're getting close to the end. The chapters will be getting longer now.

The following day, Jack was sitting in the living room, playing a card game with his 'roomate' when he received a phone call. He picked up the phone and left the room, not before mumbling an apology. It was from a number he did not know, which wasn't surprising since Jack had almost no contacts. His first instinct was to hang up, but against his better judgement, Jack answered instead. He cleared his throat and held the phone to his ear as he said, "Hello? Who is this?" He almost dropped the phone when he heard who it was. "Jack, it's been a while," a familiar feminine voice said on the other end. "Angela! I thought I wouldn't hear back from you." Jack was pleasantly surprised. He looked over to his friend, to see it shocked as well, and Jack saw as it got up and disappeared. He was a bit disappointed, but he would dwell on it later, and instead he focused on the long conversation ahead of him. "Yes, well I couldn't say no to an old friend," said Angela. Jack had gone to visit her a few days ago, to look for information regarding Gabriel's death. Sadly, she wasn't home at the time, so he left her a note with his phone number instead. It looks like it payed off after all, and hopefully Angela will have the information he needs. "Thanks for calling me. Its nice to hear you again." "Yes, Jack, likewise. I am sure your intentions of visiting me weren't just to catch up, though. Am I correct in assuming so?" Jack sighed. "You're right. I actually do need a favor. I am sorry for leaving you all in the dark for so long. I just.." He paused, took a deep breath, and continued quietly. "I just haven't been the same since... you know." "I understand. Gabriel's passing affected us all, but understandbly, you the most. Yet, I am still glad you decided to get back in touch after all this time, for whatever reason it may be." Angela's soft words touched him, and he felt guilty for abandoning them so long ago. "Well, I'm sure you'd like to know why I sought you out." Jack took a deep breath, and then he began to speak. "It's about Gabriel, actually. Didn't it ever strike you as odd the situation of his death? They never told us anything." Angela was silent for sometime. After what felt like a long time, she said, "We choose to ignore what we don't want answered. Are you sure you want to go down this road, Jack?" Jack didn't have to think about his answer. "I've thought about this for a long time. I am sure as hell ready to right all the wrongs." Angela took a deep breath. "We've been researching about this for a while," she said. "When you look at the reports around his death, they are all vague. It was most surely covered up. The man that filled them still works there though. I talked to him not too long ago, but he wouldn't say anything. With a bribe, I was able to get out a few things. For one, Gabriel's death was scripted." She paused and took a shuddering breath. "You knew how suspicious it was." When she said this, he was reminded of those circumstances. Reminded of those painful memories.

_The day was rainy and Gabriel was called away early. Jack was bored, sitting at his deck and twiddling with a pencil whilst waiting for Gabriel. 'It was really out of the blue' Jack thought to himself as he reminisced. He and Gabriel had been chatting in their room when an official had walked in and asked for Gabriel's presence immediately. That had happened about an hour ago and still, he hadn't come back. Needless to say, Jack was worried. If he didn't come back soon, Jack would barge around and look for him. That didn't opportunity didn't arrive though, since Gabriel arrived a few minutes later, tired-looking but very happy. "Jack, I have the best news!" He started as he walked towards him and sat on top of Jack's desk. "What happened, Gabriel? Why'd you take so damn long? I was worried, you dick!" Gabriel's smile didn't falter as he explained himself. "I got a promotion, the best kind! We're getting out of here, cariño!" Jack was shocked. "R-Really? Oh Gabriel that's great news! I can't believe it!" Gabriel beemed and said "Jack, we're set for life! In a month or so, we'll have our house in the country like we always planned. We'll have our big dogs and chickens and pigs and whatever you ask for. We're so close!" Jack could cry, he was so happy. But something was nagging at him. "Honey, what do you have to do? Who offered this? Why such a good opportunity?" "That's the thing, mi sol, it's just one more mission! Some higher ups recognized my work, apparently, and they said I deserve honorable discharge. And I can bring you too! Can you believe it?" Gabriel was very happy, but Jack was frowning. He wished he could be happy for him, but it sounded so fishy. "Gabriel, maybe there are better ways to go about this?" Gabriel did falter at that. "What? Jack, this is the opportunity of a life time! Don't tell me you're getting cold feet now." He looked upset now, but hopeful still. "Doesn't this sound like bad news to you? All out of the blue?" Jack sighs, he didn't want to burst his bubble. "I just don't want to look a gift horse in the mouth" Gabriel looked like a kicked puppy. "This isn't gonna end well, Gabriel." Gabriel gets up at that. "Mi amor, I'll prove it to you! I won't let this go to waste. I'll make you proud! Please allow me the chance to do so!" With such an earnest expression, Jack couldn't say no. "I'll rely on you Gabriel, just don't get yourself killed. When do you leave anyway?" Gabriel's radiant smile returned as he said, "Tomorrow." A sinking feeling settled in Jack's chest._

Jack agreed. "They never gave details. Just a simple come and go, they said." "But we both know that wasn't the case. How likely would it have been for Gabriel to die on a normal mission?" Jack didn't even have to think. "Impossible," he replied. "The question is, why kill him and hide it? What would they gain? Why was he a threat? Do you remember anything Jack?" He thought hard, but nothing came to mind. His superiors loved him, thought he was a shoe-in for higher positions. Maybe they thought Gabriel was in the way? No, that seems too simple. Nothing that would warrant his death. It had to be deeper than that. There were a lot of things he didn't know about Gabriel. Maybe he was involved in bad things, and the U.S. Government wanted him dead. Maybe commuted war crimes. But if he did, they wouldn't have had to hide his death. Obviously, their intentions were sinister and illegal, not his.

"Gabriel just wasn't a bad person, Angela. I don't know what else to tell you." She sighed, as if she knew that was going to be his answer. "I already knew that, Jack. Don't worry, we're getting close. I can feel it. I'm glad you decided to come in contact, I feel like I can get to the bottom of this with your help." Jack smiled, but didn't say anything. "Well, I guess I'll hang up now. I'll call you when I have more information. You do the same okay? Don't be a stranger. Bye." She hung up after that, and Jack was left with his thoughts swirling. Maybe now, he can finish the card game.

With that in mind, he headed back in to the living room and looked to see his roommate still there. Either the conversation hadn't been long, or his friend had no concept of time. Still, this left him open to finish the game, so he didn't question it. Instead, he sat down and resumed where he had left off. "So, you got any 10's?" His opponent shook his head, as if saying "Go fish, loser." He smiled and took a card. Right now, he didn't care if he won or lost.


	6. Reasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reasons are given, loose ends are tied.

"Jack? It's me, Angela. Sorry for calling so late, but I have information that cannot wait. Please meet me at the coffee shop closest to your apartment. As for your cellphone, please leave it at home. I'll await your arrival, so be there as early as 8AM, please. Tschüss."

With the voice mail ending, Jack prepared himself right away. He had woken up early as usual, with the past days being boring and uneventful. When he woke up, though, he had noticed something off. His phone had a voice message. He went to listen to it, and now was here, getting ready to leave. He left his phone on his bed, and left his bedroom to look around for his companion, who was laying down on the couch. Jack approached quickly and said, "I'm gonna leave, be back soon okay?" To which he received a gruff hum as a response. He got his keys and left, quickly making his way to his car and sitting inside. As he sat there, he realized he hadn't walked anywhere in a while, and the coffee shop was a block away. He got out of his car and shoved the keys in his pocket. He begin making his way down the street, walking at a brisk pace, anticipating and dreading the encounter to come. He began to think. "What will happen once we get to the bottom of this? Will this entity really be Gabriel, and if so, would he stay?" What a selfish thought. If he were to get closure, he'd go to heaven where he'd belong, not here, stuck as an aparition and bound to a sad, desolate apartment. He shook himself out of those thoughts, there was no need for them right now. In a minute or so, he arrived at his destination, and Jack's heart seized. Angela was there, sitting a table already, with a stack of folders on the table, filled to the brim with papers. This was going to take a while. 

He sat down. Before he could speak, Angela spoke. "I am glad you're here rather early. We have much to discuss, and not a lot of time. I spoke to you recently about possible motives regarding our little ''accident," and something stood out from what you said. That he was a good man, and nothing sticked out. That's why, Jack!" She exclaimed. Jack didn't know what to think. 

"Angela, I don't know what you're getting at. Mind bringing me up to date?"

"Jack, look at these files. All of these higher ups have "dirt" on them. Something dirty or wrong that they did to get there. But Gabriel? He had nothing, nothing on him. That made them angry. Maybe his fellow comrades felt unsafe, like he was hiding something so deep that no one could know, or maybe they didn't like that he simply hadn't done anything wrong. Maybe they felt like he didn't deserve his future position. Whatever it was, it drove sooldiers to report him to the higher ups. I found those reports. "they contained things like, "accused of suspicious activity," "untrustworthy," etcetera. The higher ups started to doubt their public backing of their so-called "miracle boy." The perfect soldier that was seemingly made only of hard work and dedication. It was too late, though. They had chosen him already, and to the eyes of their peers and underlings, they made a bad decision. Do you see now, Jack? They were put in corner. Lose a good soldier, or lose your reputation? And you know what they chose. They did it quietly, made it look like an accident, expressed their condolences and didn't even show up to the funeral. The job was done and their names were saved. But I have a record of all that they did. They are not clear, and we will bring this to light. Are you with me?" During this whole explanation, everything was finally cleared to Jack. He had his answers. He was not going to let these people go eithowipaying their dues. "What news channel do we bring this to?" Jack asked with a smirk on his face. "My dear Jack, the question is not who, it is how many."

* * *

After the conversation, Jack ran home to share the good news, while Angela "cleaned up." When he got there, he was greeted with the scent of food cooking, but it only registered briefly as he saw the dark, mildly defined silhouette of his roommate, working something in the pan. "Stop what you're doing right now," He yelled, startling a yelp (since when does it do that?) from his companion and forcing it to drop the pan. "Listen closely, I need you to listen closely." The figure straightened itself immediately, sneaking this was serious, and faced Jack. "I've been investigating something for a while. I had a a very close friend who was died some time ago. I didn't believe it to be an accident, though.Aith research and time, I found out that it wasn't. My friend was murdered for no other reason than to keep someone's name clear. My friends name was Gabriel Reyes, and I think it could be you." All this time, Jack had been looking intently at his ghotsly friend, to see any reaction. When he had said the last sentence, though, the figure seemed to get impossibly still. And then, all at once, a small, bright light emerged from the center of the being, and engulfed it whole. When the brilliant light faded, he couldchave sworn he heard a deep, familiar chuckle, but it was brief and fleeting, and his companion was gone. Jack wanted to scream out to it, to _him_ , becuase after all this time it _was_ Gabriel, and finally Gabriel was free. He thought he would feel sad, or empty, or alone, but Jack felt light. So light. His soul mate, the love of his life, was finally free. He had found the reason. He had saved him. Gabriel's soul had been released, free from the burden of unfinished business, and past regrets. His face was wet with tears of happiness, and he hugged himself close. He knew, knew deep in himself like one would a universal truth, that Gabriel was watching over him, and that when he time came, he would see him again. 

* * *

_The green fields were endless, as they swayed with the gentle breeze that wafted through the air and rustled the trees. The blanket that he was on was soft and worn, and achingly familiar, with stripes and spots and stains and holes. Next to him was a man so beautiful he couldn't look at him, with tanned skin and curled short hair. He had a scar over his face, which for some reason seemed new but right to him. He looked up and saw warm, brown eyes that were briming with an emotion he placed as love, and he realized he himself felt that same emotion too, and if he had a mirror he would be able to see it in his eyes, too. Another breeze passed by and ruffled his hair, and leaves fell around them like rain. The man next to him had a soft, easy smile. It made him feel dizzy and light. He didn't know where he was, but he didn't mind. He felt so happy, and calm, as if this was all he needed. Sunshine, food, and his favorite person. He leaned closer to this beautiful, beautiful person, and was overcome with an urge. He slowly pressed his lips against the man he loved, and melted when he felt the other do the same. He pulled back, and saw the others eyes glimmering. " I love you," he felt himself say. He delighted in the almost imperceptible dusting of pink on the others dark, sweet face. He looked away and mumbled, "I love you too, Jackie."_

_Jack smirked and said, "Aw, come on now, don't be shy,_ Gabby _." Gabriel looked back to him sharply, and smiled a falsely sweet smile. "_ Mi sol, mi amor, mi razón de ser _, I will kill you if you say that again."_

 _He felt himself get up quickly as he whispered, "_ Gabby _," and dashed through the fields as Gabriel chased after him, laughing all the while, his heart soaring._

He woke up slowly drifting into consciousness. He recalled his dream and smiled, knowing that he would be there, waiting for him to come home. 

 


End file.
